


Casualties

by dormiensa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Forbidden Love, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Infidelity, Psychological Trauma, Relationship Problems, post—hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:57:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8006920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormiensa/pseuds/dormiensa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A father-son tête-à-tête exposes heretofore unrevealed truths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Good morning, son.  Happy Birthday!  What are your plans for today?  Would you be able to spare a few hours for your Father?  Very good.  Finish your breakfast, and we'll go.

 

We won't be back in time for lunch, love, will you be alright?  Very well, then.  Finished, son?  Follow me – the  Side-Along-Apparition will be quickest.

 

Here we are.  This small cottage is my refuge; even your Mother is not aware of its existence.  Come in and have a look.  Yes, it’s small, but cozy.

 

You are wondering why we're here.  I needed a private place to talk with you.  There is an issue that we need to discuss, and I thought this was the best place to do so.  Sit down.

 

This is very awkward, but it must be done.

 

Son, I know you have been aware for some time now that...my wife is not your birth mother.  I would not have chosen to have you find out this fact through her outburst that time, but...perhaps I should have told you the truth then, but I was not sure how you would react; I still don't, but I feel the time is ripe.

 

Your mother, your real mother, is the love of my life.  I know, I do not seem the type to have “'the grand passion” – too many years of obeying the etiquette rules of your grandparents and our set.  She is the most extraordinary woman I've ever known.  I cannot honestly say the most beautiful, for your M – my wife certainly outshines her in that way, but she has such an inner beauty and a strong personality that she exudes an aura unlike any other.  If I hadn't been such a coward...Never mind, I'm getting ahead of myself.

 

We met in school, and she and I could not have been more different.  I was the son and heir of one of the few remaining pure-blood families, a Slytherin...arrogant and mean, as she has told me countless times, and I will concede that your Grandfather instilled a definite sense of pride in me.  Your mother was sorted into Gryffindor, although she said The Hat considered her for Ravenclaw, and she is Muggle-born.  Yes, I can see that you're surprised by this.  Perhaps you begin to understand why you are only finding out now. 

 

Well, on principle, I was expected to loathe your mother on sight, and I did.  Times may have since changed for the better, but I'm sure you're aware of the old prejudices that some still hold against those of Muggle-born descent.  Being the “arrogant prat” that I was, I found every opportunity to tease her, mock her, belittle her.  She fought back, never took my taunts meekly.  In fact, I was made to look ridiculous on several occasions.  It infuriated me.  We kept at each other's throats.  She became my greatest competitor in class, and I will admit that she scored better grades than I too many times, and that infuriated me even more.  I, who was always taught that Muggles were inferior and stupid, beaten by a Muggle-born witch?  “Mudblood”, I often let that hateful word escape my lips, but she eventually got me back for it – I can still feel the sting on my cheek when I think of that first time she slapped me.  That was the turning point for us, ironically: I'd started to have some respect for her.

 

Nothing more happened until our sixth year.  It was one of the worst of my life.  Your Grandfather was in Azkaban, and I had received the Dark Mark and the mission to kill Dumbledore.  You already know the story, so I need not repeat it.  Your mother found me recovering from a grueling session with the Dark Lord.  Instead of shunning me as she should have, she healed the superficial wounds and just sat and waited.  I was embarrassed, and I lashed out at her.  She didn't even flinch, just continued to sit and waited.  I left her like that, but ever since that time, she was on the lookout and always found me when I was in trouble.  I never told her what was going on, not until after The Defeat, but I think she guessed enough.  Yet, she didn't hate me for it, didn't taunt me like I would have done in her shoes.

 

I may be arrogant, selfish, and cruel, but I'm not completely heartless.  She got to me.  She broke through the walls, saw what was behind the tough front I put up.  She didn't hate me.

 

I needed her.  We began seeing each other secretly, and barring things related to the impending doom, we talked about everything and got to know each other.  Merlin, the arguments we would get into!  She was opinionated and passionate about everything.  Our different upbringings clashed so many times.  But it was fantastic: finally, someone that I could spar with, whom I could be myself around, who didn't dictate my life.  Of course, that all ended with Dumbledore's murder. 

 

After The Defeat, she found me, and it started all over again.  We could not reveal our relationship to any of our friends: there was still too much animosity between "her side" and mine, in spite of the Dark Lord's demise.  I think she might have risked the ostracization if I were someone else, but she knew I was a coward.  Why she continued to love me, I don't know, but I'm eternally thankful. 

 

And so, we continued to meet here in secret.  We knew we had to part ways, but we tried to hold off reality for as long as we could.  Sadly, reality hit us too soon: your Grandfather told me one morning that everything had been settled between the families and that he would be announcing my engagement.  When I met with your mother that night to tell her the news, she took it very calmly, as if she already knew.  She didn't cry or beg me to call off the engagement; she never expected anything from me, knowing I could never stand up to your Grandfather.  And I was selfish: we should have parted ways then, but I begged her to let me see her again.  And I kept begging, kept seeing her, even after I was married.  Astoria never questioned where I went, and if she suspected anything, she never commented. 

 

Then that fateful night, I found her here, distraught and crying.  I – that look of pain and utter misery I will never forget.  She - she'd just discovered that she was pregnant and knew she was carrying a son.  I must have looked an utter git sitting there gaping in shock.  We'd always been careful about casting the Contraception Charm, but that one night after that silly dinner party I'd attended – I was drunk, but I insisted on meeting her, and she came...and you were conceived.  I knew that I should have asked for a divorce and married your mother, provided you both with the security, but my cowardice kept me silent.  Your mother never said a word of blame.  In fact, she was the one who came up with the plan: she would cast charms to conceal the pregnancy, I would tell my parents and my wife that some woman that I had had a brief, drunken one-night stand with had told me that she was pregnant and would give up the child for a small settlement.  We would cast charms on Astoria to make it seem like she was carrying a child, and, in due time, the baby would be given to me to bring home to raise. 

 

No, they did not create a scene.  Your Grandfather and Astoria both took this quite well.  You don't believe me?  Well, here's another secret: Astoria could not have children.  She and her parents hid this fact prior to the marriage, and I only found out the night of the wedding.  I think this point alone would have been enough to sway your Grandfather, but I also concealed from him the fact that your mother was Muggle-born.  So, to this day, your Grandfather believes you to be pure-blood.  From my standpoint, you **_are_**.  Your mother was the smartest, most powerful witch of our year.  None of the so-called pure-blooded witches in Slytherin or Ravenclaw could hold a candle to her.

 

So, the plan was carried out.  Both your mother and I made arrangements so that we could spend her final two months here in anticipation of your birth.  She had confided in one of her most trusted friends, Susan Bones, because Bones was a Healer at St. Mungo's and could help deliver you safely.  Your mother and I spent two very bittersweet months waiting for your arrival. 

 

She only allowed herself one week to spend with you.  She left a note to say goodbye because she knew she would never leave if she looked into your eyes again.  She left and soon after married her long-time friend and fellow Gryffindor.  I brought you home to the Manor.  I didn't see her for a year after your birth because she forbade it – that was the other worst year I've ever experienced.  You were my only consolation.

 

Your mother gave birth to a little girl soon after, and I guess her longing for you overcame her scruples because she sent a message for us to meet here.  She forbade me to bring you: she said she knew that if you disappeared, your grandparents and Astoria would get suspicious.  But I knew better: if she saw you again, she would want to take you away.  So, I brought her the pictures I'd taken and told her everything about you.  After that, it was impossible for us to not meet, and so we did and continue to do, as often as we can.

 

I know that my actions have caused a lot of pain: to her, to you, to Astoria.  You are only learning now to what extent your life has been affected, and I can only say I’m sorry that I have hurt you, inadequate as it is.  If I had a Time-Turner, things would have been different…wishful thinking and utterly useless for our current circumstance.

 

I will let you think over all this.  I hope you will not cut me out of your life henceforth.

 

There **_is_** another, more important reason why I've revealed all this to you: I want to know if you would like to meet your mother.  Now that you are of age, you have choices that you've never had before.  If you choose to form a relationship with her, no one can prevent you from doing so, not even your Grandfather. 

 

I'm pleased to hear it.  I will contact her about a good time to meet.   Ah, yes, how remiss of me: before she was married, your mother was Hermione Granger.


	2. Chapter 2

She looked down at the sleeping face and could not help but catch her breath at just how beautiful he was.  How perfect.  How much he looked like his father.  Even that small pout and the furrowing of the eyebrows were the same.  How she wished she could freeze time and just remain like this forever.  Caressing his cheek.  Smoothing the rumpled hair.   She bit back a sob, tucked him warmly once again, and quietly left the room. 

 

Standing beside the larger bed, she looked down on the sleeping face of the love of her life.  How she wished she did not have to leave them both like this, in the middle of the night, but she knew that she would not be strong enough to say goodbye to them in the morning.  Unable to resist, she also bent down and softly caressed her love's cheek, smoothed the hair that covered his eyes.  He stirred but did not wake.  Staring at him for what seemed like an eternity, she finally forced herself to turn away, leaving a small note by the night-table, asking him to forgive her.

 

_Goodbye, my darlings._


	3. Chapter 3

Seeing their tightly clasped hands and the look of pure love as they stared into each other's eyes, he was glad he overruled their objections and begged Healer Bones to allow this secret meeting. She looked so frail in that hospital bed, his strong, wonderful mother. Stubborn, his father would mockingly tease when they could spend those rare days together as a family. Yes, she was stubborn, but had she not been, who knows what would have happened to the three of them if she had not devised that plan and insisted that it be followed. Had she not been such a stubborn advocate of equal opportunities for all witches and wizards based on ability and not birth, the Ministry of Magic would never have recovered as quickly from The Second War and brought such rapid improvements to a crippled wizarding society. The small number of dissidents had dwindled over the years – or, at the very least, learned to keep their old-fashioned prejudices among themselves, seeking to appear to be tolerant of those they considered beneath them. And his mother had had a firm hand in bringing all this about. Stubborn, yes, but also brave.

Seeing his father gently caress her pale cheek made his eyes blur. It was not fair. They should not have had to sacrifice their personal happiness for the sake of others and social opinion. But perhaps their personal tragedy was not pointless: in their own ways, they had both helped to break down the barriers of prejudice. She was the more vocal one, certainly, but he had, in his own way, paved the path for greater tolerance among the old families, making them see that if they wanted to continue to have a foothold in this new society, they would have to change their attitudes. A few had even managed to break free of their upbringings and truly embrace the changes. 

She beckoned to him, and he walked over to sit on the edge of her bed. She lifted her hand to caress his cheek, and he clasped it tightly. There were no words to be said at such a time, only looks of love, of understanding, of devotion, of suppressed pain. Before she had succumbed to the illness, she had met with him at that precious cottage, and she had spoken all her words of love, of regret, of hope for his future, of past memories, of encouragement, of how proud she was of him, of everything a loving mother would want to tell a beloved son she did not see as often as she had wanted but now was soon to be parted from. His kiss on her palm gave a muted promise that he would never forget anything she had ever told him or of all the times they had spent together, that he would show the bravery he had inherited from her and propose to Lily Potter. 

She sighed and turned to look once more at his father. He brought her fingers to his lips, and she smiled. 

Closing her eyes, she breathed her last.


End file.
